


A Mutually Destructive Arrangement

by HeadmasterFelix



Series: All's Fair [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addiction, Blood Addiction, Crowley on Human Blood, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Demon Blood Addiction, Human Blood Addiction, M/M, Moosley, PWP, Porn With Plot, Role Reversal, Sam is in charge for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5843962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley and Sam have been having an affair for some time. Tonight, Crowley proposes they fall into old habits together.</p><p>NON-CANON IN THE SERIES</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Speak of the Devil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243288) by [HeadmasterFelix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix). 



Tonight was different from all the other nights. Crowley had insisted on more secrecy than before and whisked Sam away to a hotel he claimed was twenty minutes south of Minneapolis. Sam was wary of the decisions being made, but agreed to them with perhaps too much confidence in his own ability to get out of difficult situations.

When they arrived, the scene was already set. The suite was furnished in dark red and mahogany. Crowley drew Sam's attention to the counter of the kitchenette, where two bottles sat - one of scotch, and the other of Cabernet. He noticed a small leather case, and then watched as Crowley uncorked the wine and poured them each a glass. The crimson and slight viscosity of the wine made something deep inside of him react, but his conscious mind tucked it away.

"To us, and our many mutually beneficial ventures," he toasted.

"Sláinte," Sam raised his glass, and the two drank.

Crowley adjusted his tie and was quiet for longer than seemed normal. Sam was happy to give him a few minutes to collect his thoughts, but eventually grew impatient.

"Alright, I'm pretty sure you haven't drugged me, so what's the deal with the wine and bringing me six-hundred miles from home?"

He sighed as he realized his time for formulation was up. With a voice as collected and in-control as ever, Crowley offered an explanation. "I have a proposition, Moose, and I wanted to be sure we're far away from where Dean could find us on the chance you say yes," he moved to Sam while he spoke, ending just inches from him. He took the glass from Sam's hand and set it down before pulling him down into a kiss.

Sam participated eagerly, wrapping his arms around the demon king and nipping at his lips while their tongues danced. He knew Crowley wasn't finished explaining, but the fact that he started was good enough for now.

Crowley broke the kiss and downed the rest of his wine. He waited expectantly and, taking the cue, Sam did the same. He led the Winchester to one of the suite's sofas. "Sit, Moose."

Sam did as he was told, and welcomed Crowley as he straddled him. The two resumed their kiss, Crowley grasping and tangling his fingers in Sam's hair as Sam gripped his sides. Subtly at first, the demon rocked on Sam's lap.

Crowley teased and toyed with the Winchester for several minutes, working him up into a bit of a panting mess before continuing their earlier conversation. "That's good, Moose. So very good."

Sam looked up, attention fully on Crowley.

"You'd do anything for your King, wouldn't you, Moose?" He spoke as if he already knew the answer.

Sam nodded, lust not concealed. Crowley had him well trained by now, and he was putty in his King's hands. "Anything."

"We're going to do something very naughty tonight. Think you can handle that?"

He nodded again.

With a slight gesture, Crowley summoned the leather satchel to him. He opened the case, displaying its contents to Sam. Inside were two antique syringes, several needles still in their sterile packaging, and a scalpel. He watched Sam.

It did not take long for Sam to understand what Crowley was asking. He swallowed hard as he battled indecision, parts of him warring for the outcome. Finally, he spit out, "I- I thought you went clean?"

"I did, and I am, but you have no idea how badly I miss it, Moose. And yours was always the best."

Sam ruminated for a moment more. "I know how bad you miss it. I've been there," but Sam's addiction made him volatile, while Crowley's made him docile. Maybe not such a bad thing.

A smirk tugged at Crowley's lips. "That's right, I'd nearly forgotten." He had never forgotten. He ran a hand over his own neck, Sam's eyes followed. "Maybe we can be of service to each other."

Simultaneously, alarm and need coursed through him. He wondered what the rush would be like, drinking from the King of Hell instead of Ruby. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear. 

Sensing weakness, he went in for the kill. Crowley firmly put his hand on Sam's chest. "Moose," his tone was expectant and commanding. "Just say yes."

He nodded, tentatively at first and then with confidence. "Yes. Yes, please, yes."


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley smiled down at Sam, "You first, love."

Sam picked and prepared a syringe. The demon watched him intently as he drew blood from his arm with ease.

"That's a good lad. Just a bit more... yeah, yeah, good," he caught his lower lip in his teeth as he watched the glass tube fill. He waited with barely restrained impatience as Sam withdrew the needle and handed over the syringe.

Eagerly, Crowley fell into old habits and found the same vein he'd used countless times.

Sam watched with bated breath as the viscous, deep crimson liquid pushed through the needle. Looking up, he saw Crowley's pupils dilate and his breathing grow heavier.

He looked to Sam, gratitude clear in his eyes, and pulled the needle from his arm. He set it in the leather case and put it aside before leaning in for another kiss.

Sam accepted him gladly, but quickly found that the mood had shifted. Crowley was desperate, almost needy, as his tongue probed Sam's mouth and his hips rocked.

"Your turn, Sammy," he reached down and brushed his hand over Sam's concealed knife. "You can use yours, or there's a blade in the kit. I'd rather you don't just go for it with your teeth." He smiled, eyes half-lidded.

He absolutely noticed his new moniker, and his mind snapped to thoughts of his brother. His brother, who would be so disappointed. His brother, who was busy with someone else. With a swift motion, he unclipped the strap holding his knife in its holster, and drew it. He hesitated, his internal Dean urging him to stop, to think about the consequences, to make better choices. But the real Dean wasn't there, and hadn't been, and Crowley was right here, taking Sam by the hand and bringing the blade to the sensitive and delicate flesh where shoulder meets neck.

"I... fuck, I shouldn't do this." He made an incredibly feeble attempt to draw his hand back.

"You deserve this, Moose. You deserve to feel good - to feel powerful. I can give that to you. I _want_ to give that to you. You deserve all I could ever give you, Sammy." Crowley was clearly high. Sam didn't care.

Anger at Dean and a longing for about a dozen different things pushed him over the edge of temptation. He pressed the blade into the spot Crowley had chosen, and swiftly dragged it across flesh. The demon let out a slightly pained grunt, and Sam seized him and pulled him in. Sam drank with urgency and increasing impetus, teeth and tongue delaying the wound running dry.

It hit him instantly. His heart raced and breathing became labored. His senses were sharper than they'd been in years, and he felt like his whole body was coursing with power he'd only known very briefly, many years ago. "Get up," Sam's voice was low and dangerous. "And take off that ridiculous suit, it makes you feel too self-important," his cadence was steady.

Crowley was always in charge, always the one giving the orders. He nearly protested, mostly by reflex, but thought better of it after seeing the ruthlessness written on Sam's face. He did as he was told, stripping for his Moose. The King of Hell took a deep sense of pride and pleasure in his part in Sam's fall.

Sam licked his lips and spread his legs as he watched the other man undress. Idly, he unfastened his belt and pants, freeing his hard cock and gently stroking it. When Crowley was fully nude, he raised an eyebrow. "Don't make me make demands." There was a perverse playfulness behind his tone.

He didn't need to be asked. Crowley got on his knees and positioned himself between Sam's thighs. He took the head of Sam's cock into his mouth, and replaced Sam's hand on his shaft.

Sam grabbed a fistful of the demon king's hair and controlled the pace with which Crowley was sucking him off. He was more than skilled, but Sam quickly grew bored. There wasn't nearly enough contact between them. He jerked Crowley's head off of him. "Bed," his voice was almost as forceful as his touch.

Crowley stood up and moved to the bed, not getting on just yet as he sensed impending orders.

With only his mind and haphazard will, Sam summoned Crowley's pants to his hand as he crossed the room to the bed. He shoved them against Crowley's chest, who took them, and then began to undress.

He took a small pleasure in having been with Sam long enough now that they knew each other's habits. Taking his cue, Crowley removed the wallet from the pants pocket, and a small packet of lube from there. He'd hardly set his pants back down when Sam grabbed him by the jaw and kissed him.

Sam pressed his body against the demon's, their chests and hips and cocks in full contact. Sam ran a hand over the now-closed cut at the base of Crowley's neck. He nipped at Crowley's lip and then made the demand he'd been waiting for. "I'm going to fuck you, Crowley, and unlike every other night, I'm going to be in charge," he paused with a smirk.

Crowley said nothing - not because he had nothing to say, but because he sensed the game Sam was getting off.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," it finally hit him that he was actually being subjugated by a Winchester.

"I think you're forgetting something," his smirk grew wider.

"Yes, I understand, King," it finally hit him that he loved it.

"Good. Now get on your knees. I don't need to see your face."

Oh, so cruel. It made Crowley proud. He got onto the bed, bum in the air.

Sam got up behind him and snatched the packet from his fingers. With a practiced hand, he readied Crowley's tight asshole. He was briefly torn between finger-fucking him to draw it out, or just cutting to the chase. His mind was made up quickly when he thought about just how many times he was going to fuck Crowley tonight. After spending the last few drops slicking the head of his cock, he gripped the demon's hips with sharp nails and began to bury himself.

He felt so much more acutely with human blood pumping through his vessel, and the force of Sam's entrance made him grit his teeth. 

Sam moved slowly at first, but increased in speed and aggression swiftly. He bent over Crowley, grunting and gasping in his ear as he worked the demon raw.

Inhibitions lowered, Crowley had no qualms with allowing himself to be vocal. He cursed and moaned into the sheets.

Sam was not like Crowley and did not play mind games during sex (or ever, generally). He put all of his attention into the physical, finding precisely the right tempo and angle, and then keeping his hands moving all over Crowley's other sensitive spots. He clawed the demon's back and sides, teased his nipples, and eventually settled in supporting himself with one arm while the other roughly worked Crowley's cock.

Crowley thrust his hips into Sam's hand and, conversely, back against Sam's hips. He grew quieter the closer to orgasm he got, focusing increasingly more on staving it off. 

Sam could tell and had no patience for it; delayed or not, Crowley would be getting off a few more times tonight. "If you don't come for me in the next thirty seconds, you're not going to come at all. Understand, pet?" 

Crowley didn't dare test his bluff. He gave a small noise of protest.

"I said, do you understand?" he barked into Crowley's ear and straightened out to rake his nails down the demon's back.

He cried out, "Ahh! Yes, King, yes, I..." his words trailed off but his voice didn't. As the sting dulled, pleasure melted away all resolve he had left. He bucked two or three more times before stilling completely. His body tensed and silent seconds passed before his throat loosened enough to work. Again he cried out, riding the last few waves of pleasure.

Warm and slick over his fingers, Sam could feel in more ways than one that his goal had been accomplished. He fucked Crowley into the mattress only a brief time longer before filling him with his own come. 

The pair collapsed together and Crowley nestled himself in Sam's arms. The Winchester welcomed him. After several minutes of breath-catching and basking, Crowley asked, "What now, Moose?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Now? Well... I'm thinking I get drunk, and then fuck you again, maybe in the shower. How's that sound?" It wasn't really a question. But Crowley would have given a very enthusiastic 'yes' if it had been.


End file.
